Chapter 7#

The Emperor did not answer directly, only expressing that he was tired. He snuggled into Han Lang’s arms and, before long, fell asleep. Han Lang settled him down, extinguished the lamp, and stepped out of the room.

Outside the door, Liu Yun was still kneeling with his head bowed. Seeing Han Lang come out, he kowtowed nervously but was kicked hard by Han Lang, right in the chest.

Liu Yun didn’t even dare to make a sound or frown, only lowering his head further: “This subordinate knows his crime!”

“Crime? What crime do you have? I am the one who defines crimes now. You tell me what crime you have committed! When I sent you to the Emperor, what did I tell you?” Han Lang lowered his voice and scolded.

“This subordinate…”

Han Lang waved his hand, stopping Liu Yun’s nonsense: “In the past two days, has anyone who shouldn’t have been here appeared?”

Liu Yun was stunned for a moment.

“Who are you trying to protect? Or can’t you even remember this little thing?”

“No, Liu Yun remembers—it was Hua Rong.”

Han Lang’s eyes sharpened, and his wide sleeves billowed with a cold wind.

When Han Lang burst into the room, Hua Rong was about to change his clothes. The sleeve he had half-taken off froze in place.

It seemed he hadn’t expected Han Lang to visit at this time. His hand trembled, and he was startled. The gilded invitation card he was holding under his arm fluttered to the ground.

Han Lang noticed something was wrong. Without a word, he took a step forward and picked it up before him. He opened the invitation and looked at it carefully. His expression immediately became difficult to read, and he tutted in admiration: “Your body has just recovered a little, and you’re already thinking of receiving guests? You even had someone send an invitation to my residence?”

Hua Rong was originally a little embarrassed, but after hearing Han Lang’s words, he suddenly gained courage and gestured boldly with his neck held high.

“This was a business deal arranged before I entered the residence. Besides, since the Prince isn’t using it, I thought I might as well go out and make some money since I’m idle.”

“What do you mean by ‘idle’?”

“If the Prince doesn’t use it, isn’t it idle?”

“There? You mean the place where you make money?” Han Lang suddenly understood and patted his chrysanthemum.

“So letting you be idle means I’m incompetent, right…” Han Lang drew out his words, that damned smile in his eyes again: “I’m incompetent, so you’re going to use your scabbard to sheathe someone else’s precious sword?”

Hua Rong shook his head frantically, his neck almost breaking.

However, it was too late. Han Lang was already leaning against the door with a smile, looking at him with the corners of his mouth slightly raised, and called out softly: “Liu Nian…”

Liu Nian appeared in response.

Han Lang continued to wave his hand with a smile: “Go, teach our Master Hua the rules of the Prince’s residence, and let him understand what the consequences are for gossiping about his master.”

The oil in the lantern in the room was almost gone. At this time, the flame flickered with the cold wind, suddenly dimming and brightening.

When Hua Rong was dragged out to be beaten, he was definitely in human form; when he returned, he was dragged in, his body wrapped in blood as if it were clothes.

His whole body was covered in wounds, whip marks overlapping each other. The rules of the Prince’s residence were indeed no small matter.

Han Lang glanced at him, rubbing his brow and said nonchalantly: “I don’t like the smell of blood. Wash him clean for me.”

In the time it takes for half an incense stick to burn, Hua Rong was soaked in ice water and dragged back in. His body was indeed like ice crystals, with threads of pink seeping through, truly “chillingly” soul-stirring.

Han Lang dismissed the servants, closed the door, squatted down, grabbed Hua Rong’s hair, and forced him to look at himself.

Hua Rong was pale from the cold, his brows slightly furrowed, and his lips trembled, but he wore a smile, without a trace of unhappiness. He really had a bit of a soft, decadent, and stunning charm.

Accepting what should be accepted? Han Lang returned a smile to Hua Rong and threw him onto the bed.

Hua Rong didn’t struggle at all, his head buried shallowly in the bedding.

Walking to the edge of the bed, Han Lang said regretfully: “Covered in wounds, I wonder if Liu Langzhongling will mind tomorrow.”

Hua Rong lay naked on the bed, panting with a smile.

“Anyway, his shabby official position won’t last for a few days. Why don’t we have some fun ourselves first? Seize the day.”

Han Lang suggested. At some point, a black pill appeared in his hand. His long fingers skillfully inserted the pill into Hua Rong’s anus.

Outside it was cold as jade, but inside it was wet, slippery, soft, and hot. Han Lang kneaded the pill and waited patiently for it to dissolve.

Soon the medicine began to take effect. Hua Rong twisted his waist in pain, still feeling like a million ants were crawling and biting in his rear court.

“See how considerate this Prince is to you. Afraid you won’t be able to bear it for a whole night, I’ll give you a pill first to ensure you stay awake all night, your hole as hot as molten lava, and your member standing tall and proud.”

The fearless Hua Rong, though weak, could still gesture his thanks.

Seeing this, Han Lang laughed so hard he couldn’t stand up straight, “You’re welcome, you’re welcome. How can I be so bad as to take care of your back and forget your front?”

Saying this, he gracefully got off the bed, took a leather ring shaped like a member from a cup, and put it on Hua Rong’s erect phallus. At the same time, he flipped over and pressed down on Hua Rong, thrusting hard into him.

“This is called a sheep’s eye ring. It will naturally expand when it encounters water, and as the water slowly dries, the ring will shrink back to the size of a sheep’s eye.”

After Han Lang finished speaking, he thrust in and out behind Hua Rong, rubbing the sheep’s eye ring to make it tighten rapidly.

The back was as hot as fire. The more pleasure he felt, the tighter the sheep’s eye ring became, like a sharp knife cutting into Hua Rong’s most sensitive part.

This pain was not something an ordinary person could endure.

But Hua Rong was not an ordinary person. He only frowned, and after getting used to it for a while, he began to relax and accommodate Han Lang’s movements.

The room was instantly filled with heat waves. Han Lang caressed his whip marks and tasted a mouthful of fresh blood.

“You really can endure anything.” Han Lang said with a smile, thrusting forward fiercely: “I used to always wonder how to make people submit to me. Now it’s good, I’m starting to wonder how you can not submit to me.”

The next day, in the study of the Prince of Funing’s residence.

By the time Han Lang finished dealing with the memorials, the sun had already set in the west, and the sunset, like blood, shone on the windowsill.

Han Lang stood up, feeling his eyes a little blurry, so he rubbed his temples.

“Prince.” Liu Yun, who had been waiting for a long time, finally dared to speak: “There is something Liu Yun wants to ask. When you went to see Hua Rong last night, did he have any wounds on his body?”

“It’s like this, Prince. Liu Yun did not report it yesterday. That assassin was actually injured by my hidden weapon. We chased him out of the residence but couldn’t find him. We suspect the assassin is hiding in the residence, so we are investigating one by one…”

“You checked Hua Rong and found that his body was covered in wounds, right?” Han Lang interjected, raising his eyebrows with interest: “I had someone beat him yesterday, but I don’t know if he was injured before that.”

Liu Yun’s waist bent even lower: “Then let’s forget it. It’s probably not him anyway.”

Han Lang continued to rub his temples, a smile slowly appearing on his lips.

“Not necessarily.” In the end, he narrowed his eyes: “It’s also possible that he deliberately provoked me, knowing that the family law of my Prince’s residence is whipping, and used the whip marks to cover up the wound.”

“Then should this subordinate…” Liu Yun slowly raised his head: “Get rid of him… just in case?”

Han Lang did not speak, looking out the window against the light, pondering for a moment.

“Hua Rong.” After pondering, he said this name: “It seems you are really interesting. I’d like to see if you are really a pig that eats tigers.”

Liu Yun understood his master’s meaning and hurriedly withdrew.

“Wait a minute.” Han Lang just remembered, picked up something from the desk: “You take this to Hua Rong. And you also convey some words for me.”

“What is this?”

Half an hour later, Hua Rong gestured on the bed, staring at the small rattle drum that Hua Gui had received from Liu Yun.

The face of the drum was not large, only a circle larger than a copper coin. The edge of the drum was inlaid with gems, with emerald pendants on the gold silk tassels. The handle was made of mahogany with a bone-white inlay at the end. The material was unknown, but it was engraved with three characters “Dian Qian Huan” (Joy Before the Palace), very gorgeous and exquisite.

“This is the drum that your Prince Han had someone make overnight from the two small pieces of skin scraped from you. The tail end of the drum handle is carved from the bone of your little finger.” Hua Gui’s voice was loud, but it trembled slightly in the end, “He also had someone tell you that if your old business is still so prosperous, he guarantees to use the same material to make a bigger drum and put it in your coffin.”

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Having money is good. You eat well, sleep well, and the rewards are top-notch.

With such a good mood, in less than three days, Hua Rong was full of life and energy, with the strength to bounce around outside Han Lang’s study.

“Call him in.” Han Lang looked up at the sight and, as usual, rubbed his throbbing temples.

Hua Rong received the summons and immediately flashed into the room like the wind, ignoring Liu Nian’s white eyes as usual.

“It’s not easy for you to get up so early.” Han Lang said, taking a sip of tea. Anyway, he was tired of reading memorials, so a little adjustment was not bad. People in Hua Rong’s line of work were used to a life of pleasure at night, how could they get up early.

After a long while, Hua Rong gestured back: “I know the Prince is never one to lie in bed, so I’m catering to your preference.”

“Does it take you so long to answer this?”

“Prince, you are indeed elegant and pleasant in every move. Hua Rong is deeply honored to have a patron like you.” It was a bit of a non-sequitur.

“Hua Rong, what is the purpose of your trip?” Han Lang put down the teacup and beckoned to Hua Rong to come forward.

Hua Rong opened his fan, fanned it a few times slowly, bowed, and continued to gesture with his hands: “Of course, it is to thank the Prince for the small drum. If there are any more gifts in the future, the Prince can just send them. I don’t care if they are good-looking or not. Gold bricks and gold bars are all fine. I don’t mind being vulgar.”

Han Lang frowned. Hua Rong’s gestures today were a bit strange. He beckoned again. Hua Rong closed his fan and stepped forward. Before he could speak, Han Lang snatched it away, glanced at Hua Rong’s surprised face, and slowly unfolded it.

The side of the fan that was originally facing Hua Rong had a small piece of paper the size of a palm attached to it, as expected, a mystery.

On the small paper were a few lines of fly-head small characters:

One: Praise his beauty: “Elegant and pleasant in every move.”

Two: Thank him for the gift, not forgetting to remind him to give more in the future; it would be best to also get the pillow of the porridge-cooking apprentice.

Three: Ask for some supplements for nourishing and beautifying.

Four: Rely on a clever mind and adapt to the situation.

Han Lang was overjoyed. Adapt to the situation? How could he think of that?

“Hua Rong, I suddenly realize that I’m very good to you.”

“That’s right, the Prince has never been stingy with his rewards to me.” The trick was exposed, but Hua Rong was not embarrassed at all, a series of gestures as smooth as flowing water.

“I’m not referring to this, but to the fact that I’m still letting you live and haven’t killed you.” Han Lang looked at him with a half-smile.